Once Upon A Time
by Carlier36
Summary: Entries to various prompts for the Weekly Drabble Challenge at susancaspian@LJ.
1. Prompt 1: Feast

Touch… Taste…

**Touch… Taste…**

They were stopped for lunch in a quiet clearing in the woods, resting from their long day of traveling. Caspian watched as Susan took a few practice shots a distance off, firing arrows in quick succession into the ground. Even having being out of practice for several centuries, he knew she could take him in any challenge. Usually, his pride would have won out at the passing thought and he'd be on his feet, a bow in hand, in an instant. But he found himself still rooted to a mossy rock, watching in fascination as the so-called 'gentle' queen of Narnia hit her mark from nearly sixty feet away, with hardly a pause for aim.

She moved with an elegant grace that belied her years of warring and dancing, despite her slender frame. It took a moment before he realized she was motioning him over. He stood abruptly, oblivious to the glances of her brothers and sister, and made his way through the soft grass to her side.

"Come for a walk with me," she said, somehow demanding and kind at the same time. Her voice was smooth and creamy, like the skin exposed across her neckline. She held her hand out to him and it felt natural placing his in it. A smile played across her lips at his lack of hesitation and he stepped forward so their hands fell between them. Her bow was grasped in one hand but he felt a surge of warmth and happiness that she held his in the other.

They walked in silence through the trees, winding aimlessly away from the others. Never once did Caspian fear they would lose their way, but whether it was trust in Susan to know where she was or that he was already too lost in the feel of her soft hand wrapped around his to care, he never bothered to wonder. She stumbled over a fallen branch buried beneath the ferns and fell briefly against him before straightening herself and her skirt.

A whiff of the foreign perfume she had worn in her own world drifted past him and he breathed in the heavenly floral scent. Still, she didn't seem to notice his preoccupation. She only caught his hand in hers once again and, smiling, tugged him towards a small stream. She lowered herself to the ground, laying her bow and her quiver beside her. She pulled him down with her by the hand and, rolling onto her side, stretched her legs out. Caspian traced the lines in her palm with a finger, hoping she felt the same tingle he did where they touched. Susan slowly looked up from their hands to his eyes and hoped he knew what he did to her.

With a hesitation he hadn't known before, one that was less out of uncertainty or fear than it was out of savoring a moment, he brought his free hand up to her cheek, feeling her warm beneath his touch. He slid his hand to her neck and she leaned in, meeting him halfway. Their lips touched and he tasted the sweet apples she'd had earlier, the faint bitterness of woodland nuts and something in between that was uniquely Susan.

Sight, sound, scent, touch… taste… She was a feast for the senses.


	2. Prompt 2: War

War

War. It's a terrible thing. Red and yellow flames, whether they be of fire or blood, fill your line of vision and the only thing you can think is whether or not you've lived well enough or not. Has your life been worth it. Have you laughed harder, loved longer. Have you taken everything life has to offer and more. Have you experienced everything, whether you wanted to or not. Have you fallen in love, nursed a broken heart and fallen again. It's not only the good things you realize you want to take with you. You want to remember every tug on your heartstrings and every tear you've shed. You _have _to remember.

War comes in all shapes and sizes. There is pointless bloodshed on faraway shores. There are generals that meet in combat, knowing one will never walk away. There is the clang of swords and the crash of bombs. There is the war waged by a man and a woman, destined never to meet again.

Minds that fight to forget, but hearts that always remember. The silent battle cries in the dead of night, banging on tall, metal gates or frozen cold memories. The taste of copper, of blood, of lips. Stolen moments and secret plans. Blood spilling on the blade or pulsing through veins; it's all the same. For as they say, in love and war. In love and war.


	3. Prompt 3: White

Everyone has a color

Everyone has a color. Queen Susan's was red. She always wore it into battle. She always wore it at parties, though in Narnia, sometimes they were the same thing. Red highlighted her dark hair and complemented her bow and arrows. Her lips were red, whether it be from lipstick or kisses.

Yet when Caspian thought of Susan, red was the furthest thing from his mind. All he could think about was white. The white of her dress on his floor and the white of her skin between his sheets. Soft moonlight shining in her eyes and her porcelain hand on his bare chest.

So when Susan pulled away, searching his eyes for some sign that their time together hadn't been for nothing, he wrapped his arms around her in reassurance. He pressed his lips to the pale skin at her shoulder, reminding them both of midnight trysts and hurried love. As she walked away from him, refusing to look back for fear she would stay, his eyes swept over the white skin exposed above her dress. It was the last thing of her he ever saw.

Red made Caspian think of Queen Susan of Old, the Gentle Queen who saved Narnia. But white made Caspian think of Susan, the woman he held for just a moment in time but loved for all his life.


	4. Prompt 4: Taste

A Stolen Bottle

**A Stolen Bottle**

The wine was bitter, as always. It had been years since she had enjoyed a good glass of wine. _Years._ Yet she continued to drink a glass a night as per habit. How she developed this habit she couldn't remember. Just one of those things. It had also been years since she thought about how much she disliked the taste of wine. Susan thought long and hard, trying to remember that elusively delicious ruby red that always seemed to burn on the tip of her tongue when she least expected it. She recalled the sensuous slope of the bottle; the pop that had echoed through an airy room long after the cork had fallen forgotten. Yet she couldn't bring to mind anything else about that night. How she even knew it was night she was baffled. Something had happened one night long ago when she had savored the taste of a blood red wine and then- Nothing. Not a single memory.

As she sipped at the awful liquid she silently admitted that wasn't entirely true. Every now and then, during a particularly sweet wine, she would remember some little detail. Just a flash of something; a party, a stolen bottle, a four-poster bed. Once a kiss, twice a whisper, but never anything more. Only a woman she no longer was, a man she couldn't remember and a bottle of wine she couldn't forget.


	5. Prompt 6: Chivalry

Such A Nice Guy

**Such A Nice Guy**

Susan balanced on the railing of her balcony, her bare feet dangling just above the cold stone. She had just come from a bath so her hair hung wet around her face, making it look almost black. Her flattering white nightgown clung to her still slightly wet body. Caspian leaned in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest, taking in the way the moonlight seemed to soak into her instead of reflecting away. She eyed him warily, seeing his lips unwittingly tip up.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. You just look lovely is all."

Susan rolled her eyes. "We just came from a ball for which I spent nearly four hours getting ready and _now_ you think I look lovely?"

Caspian nodded, straightening. "Mhmm."

She smiled slightly and a light laugh twinkled in the night as she slid off the railing and padded across the balcony to him. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself up on tiptoe. He tilted his head down to rest his forehead on hers.

"That's what I like about you. You're so _honest_," she admitted as she gently pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss. Caspian didn't seem surprised by the action but still he pulled away.

"It's late, Susan. I'd better get some sleep," he said, opting to look at the moon instead of meeting her eyes. Wryly he thought the moon reflected the same exasperation with him he was avoiding from Susan.

Susan sighed, dropping her hands to her sides as Caspian made for the door. "Caspian?" she called after him. He stopped with his fingers already on the copper handle and, almost reluctantly, turned halfway to face her over his shoulder.

"What?"

"Why do you insist on running away? Escaping?"

"I do not run away!" he protested, his pride a bit wounded.

"Every time we come close to maybe having something, you find an excuse to leave. It's late, you have a meeting with Peter. One time you even told me Reepicheep had made your sword too sharp and you needed to have it 'dulled'!"

Caspian had the decency to look sheepish at that one. "I don't know what you're getting at, Your Majesty," he said formally.

"What do I need to do, Caspian?" she murmured, her voice breaking.

"Oh Susan. It's not you. If you do anything more I won't be able to stand it. I'm running out because if I stay here any longer with you looking like that and your bed turned down and-"

Susan came closer to cut him off with a finger on his lips. "Stop being so chivalrous, Caspian. I've had chivalry. Now I just want _you_."

He swallowed hard and bit his lip as she took her finger away. With a small smirk she reached around him and opened the door, crooking an eyebrow in challenge. Caspian groaned, knowing he was beat, and caught the door in one hand to slam it shut again. In one fluid motion he had Susan pressed against the rough wood, his lips covering hers. He pushed one hand into her wet hair and curled the other at her hip. The taste of Susan's sigh put him over the edge and he pulled her towards the bed. She ran a hand over the rough stubble he had apparently forgotten to shave off before the ball. Together they fell to the soft white sheets in a tangle of lips, clothes and whispered words.

The next morning as Susan lay with his arm around her, tracing circles on his bare chest with her finger, she joked lightly, "You see what you get when you stop being such a nice guy?"

Caspian rolled over so he was on top of her and her arms wrapped loosely around the back of his neck. "You?" He smothered her smirk with his own.


	6. Prompt 10: Grace

"Susan Grace, I've heard quite enough

"Susan Grace, I've heard quite enough!"

"No, I don't think you have! Now you listen to me, Peter! It's not like we're going to be attacked by pirates or something!"

"Are you kidding? This place is swarming with pirates."

"That's pathetic, even for you. We can all bloody well take care of ourselves! Besides what right do you have to tell me where I can and cannot go? You may be my brother but I'm still a Queen!"

"Su-"

"No! Stop worrying so much and have a little fun."

Voices filtered out from Peter's-now Caspian's-office, rising and falling in the usual pattern of a Pevensie argument. In most cases, Caspian and the others had learned to ignore these outbursts of temper, whether it was Peter and Susan, Edmund and Lucy, or any combination thereof. However, this time, all three of them had their ears pressed against the door, elbowing each other out of the way in order to hear better. Without warning, the door swung open and Caspian, Edmund and Lucy tumbled into the room. Susan raised an eyebrow as they scrambled to their feet, dusting imaginary lint from their clothes. Peter crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

"I suppose you three already know the verdict, then?" he grumbled.

Susan turned her searing gaze on her older brother and he flinched. Lucy perked up at the action. "We can go then?"

"Yes, yes, you all can go," Peter continued with his grumbling.

"Of course we can. We were always going to go." Susan glared pointedly as she ushered the three sheepish but excited eavesdroppers out.

Lucy danced around the hallway, a smile pasted on her face. "Yes! We're going to the beach; we're going to the beach!" She stopped abruptly, her eyes growing wide. "I have to pack!" With that, the youngest Pevensie took off down the hallway, a streak of red hair and blue taffeta.

--

Lucy hadn't stopped bouncing since Peter had grudgingly announced they could go to the beach, against his better judgement, as he had very pointedly insisted. Now she bounded from the carriage, her lightweight green gossamer dress swirling about her as she tripped into the sand. Edmund dragged her to her feet and pulled her onto the beach, already running. Peter laughed as Caspian gaped in wonder at the beach beneath Cair Paravel where the Pevensies had arrived from their world before running after his youngest siblings. Caspian jumped slightly as Susan approached from behind, the picnic basket held in front of her.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she smiled up at him.

"Yes," he breathed, "Spectacular."

Susan grinned and set the basket down beside them. She bent, opening the lid slightly to pull out a blanket, which she spread across the sand. Flopping rather ungracefully onto the coarse material, she patted the space beside her. Caspian sat down, tucking his knees up to his chest. She stretched out beside him, propping herself up on one elbow. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, content to watch the others splashing and laughing in the water.

Suddenly, Caspian spoke up, "Why did Peter call you by two names?"

Susan's brow knit in confusion. "What?"

"When you were arguing yesterday he called you 'Susan Grace.' What does that mean?"

"Oh. Grace is my middle name. It's something our mother used to do: when she was angry she would always call us by our full names," Susan explained, turning her eyes back to her family.

"Your middle name? I thought you said your second name was Pevensie. You have three names?"

Susan nodded. "Mhmm."

"So do you all have three names?"

She sat up, realizing this conversation was going to take longer than she had anticipated. "All but Lucy. She was early and the midwife got confused when she filled out the birth certificate. Lucy was supposed to be her middle name, but the poor girl couldn't remember the first name so she just wrote down 'Lucy.'"

"What is the point of this other name?"

Susan shrugged. "I don't know. Not everyone has one. I guess it's a decision the parents make when naming their child. Sometimes it is just another name but sometimes it means something, like the mother's maiden name or a family name. Peter is Peter Daniel after our father and Ed is Edmund Montgomery after my mother's family."

"I see." Susan watched him a moment more in case he had any other questions, but he remained silent so she lay back down. She folded her arms behind her head and closed her eyes, letting the warm sun and her family's laughter lull her to sleep.

--

It was late when they returned to the castle and even Peter was sleepy from the abundance of food and fun. They crept to their separate rooms, eager for soft beds and pillows.

Susan stripped quickly to her light, strappy chemise and crawled in bed, not bothering with anything else. To her dismay, however, she found she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, rearranged the pillows and threw off the covers. Still, sleep refused to claim her. She groaned aloud, covering her face with a pillow. Her shoulders burned from the sun so no position was comfortable.

Leaning over, she lit a candle and picked up her book from the nightstand in resignation. She was only a few pages in when there was a knock at the door. Wondering who else could possibly be up at this hour, she pulled herself from the bed and padded to the door. Pulling it open she struggled to see who was hidden in the shadows. Caspian stepped into the small light her candle gave off and she hurriedly ran her fingers through her hair.

"Caspian! What are you doing up?"

He sighed. "I can't sleep and when I saw a light in your room…"

"Me neither. Come on in." She pulled the door wide and he sucked his breath in. Glancing down, Susan blushed. She reached behind the door and wrapped her summer robe around her shoulders, wincing as the fabric brushed her sunburn. Caspian noticed the action and was instantly asking what was wrong.

"Oh it's nothing. I'm just a little sunburnt, that's all," she assured him.

"Wait here. I have just the thing." He gestured for her to stay and disappeared around the corner. Susan shook her head but left the door open and climbed back onto her bed, collecting her book again. A few minutes later, Caspian returned with a small bottle. She set her novel aside and folded her hands in her lap.

"So what is it? A magical sunburn cure?" she teased as he shut the door behind him.

"Mhmm. Family secret." Caspian winked as he made his way to her side. He placed the bottle in her hand, leaning against the bedpost.

She examined the bottle and its white contents suspiciously. "What is it?"

"I told you. Family secret."

"Do you just rub it in?" He nodded, failing to notice the mischievous glint in her eyes. Offering it to him, she asked innocently, "Would you mind? I don't think I can reach."

Swallowing hard, Caspian nodded. "Uh, sure. Of course." Susan bit back a grin as she peeled her robe off and turned her back to him. He carefully uncorked the bottle and poured a little in his hand before setting it on the nightstand. She brushed her hair over her shoulder so he could reach her back. Slowly, he dabbed the moist lotion on her back, his heart pounding in his chest. Susan relaxed beneath his touch as he grew more confident. His hands were surprisingly soft despite calluses a sword had left on them and her eyes drifted closed.

"Does Grace mean anything special?"

Susan's eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. "My middle name? No. It was just something my mother liked. Why?"

Caspian shrugged. "Just wondering." A few minutes passed in relative quiet, Caspian's fingers kneading her neck, massaging now more than anything. She relaxed against him, tipping her head back so her hair fell across his chest.

"What sort of 'middle name' do you think I would have?" Susan sighed, accepting the fact she wasn't going to get any rest while Caspian was stuck on this. She twisted so she could see his face, placing one hand on his cheek.

"Caspian, some people don't _need_ a middle name. Some people are defined plenty by a single word. Peter, Ed and I, we need more. We need something else to tell us who we are. You and Lucy? You already know that." She rubbed her thumb across his cheek.

"Do I?" he whispered.

Susan nodded. "Yes. You said it yourself. You're spectacular," she murmured, hooking her fingers around the back of his neck and pulling him just low enough to brush her lips against his.

Caspian shook his head. "I was talking about the sea," he pointed out.

"Yes, well, in England we have a Caspian Sea. Well, actually, it's not in England, per se, but it-" Caspian pressed a kiss to her lips, cutting off what he knew would have been a rambling speech. Her fingers tangled in his loose hair and she moaned against him. Quickly, he scooted her across the bed and hefted himself up beside her. Her toes curled against the pillows as he kissed her and she slid her hands beneath the neck of his nightshirt and down his back. He pulled away just a bit and pressed his lips down her throat and across her exposed collarbone.

"Yes. Definitely spectacular," she breathed against his ear, a grin evident in her voice.


	7. Prompt 12: Music

She married a rich banker from New York

She married a rich banker from New York. He bought her a mansion, a car, the most beautiful clothes in the world. But most importantly, he loved her. For three years he loved her. Then he was gone. Cancer, they said. She was wealthy and alone and she could live with that because it was better than poor and alone like she had been before. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into years until she had spent ten years alone in that big, big house on the hill removed from the twittering world below, so without him.

So she hired a chauffeur to drive that big, big car with her inside around the town. To take her shopping, out to restaurants, to the theater. To give her back a life and put her back in the world, off that blasted hill. She was only thirty-five, not very old at all, if you didn't count all those extra years she carried inside, but she wasn't going to think about that. It was all she'd thought about for ten years, that and her wonderful husband's wonderful face.

The chauffeur was young, very young, far too young, and he was so very handsome. Short, light hair and baby blue eyes; they couldn't have been more different. She didn't know who she was comparing him to, because he'd had almost black hair and her dearly beloved had had red so really it could be either. She had been kind to the boy, friendly even, and had invited him up for tea. Then it was lunch and then it was dinner and then she was aching, hungry, her fingertips tingled. He was young, certainly, but not naïve, not to what she wanted, anyway. Then he was there for breakfast and he drove her around all summer, until he had to go back to university, drove her crazy.

She never saw him again, but she always remembered him, right up until the day she died and she walked back into _his_ arms once more.


	8. Prompt 13: Fate

Dictionary Definitions

**Dictionary Definitions**

Fate is used to describe the meeting of Prince Charming and Cinderella. Fate is used to tell how two people from such different worlds could fall in love in just a glance. Fate is used to be sure it always ends with a 'happily ever after.'

**Fate: **an inevitable and often adverse outcome, condition, or end

Destiny is used to tell why Romeo and Juliet were never allowed their happiness. Destiny is used to show us how two people can be separated, not by chance but because it was meant to be and they were not. Destiny is used to soften the blow when hearts are broken.

**Destiny: **a predetermined course of events often held to be an irresistible power

Susan knew fate and destiny were words misunderstood. She often took comfort in the logical, reasonable ways of a dictionary.

So she knew they were _fated_, Prince Romeo and Gentle Juliet, not to be. It was an inevitable outcome, an adverse end.


	9. Prompt 14: Temperature

Ignoring the Chill

**Ignoring the Chill**

Susan slowly unbraided her hair, careful of the snags and tangles she had accumulated during the battle. It had been long and bloody and for the first time in many years she had feared for not only Peter's life, but Ed's, Lucy's and her own as well. _And Caspian's…_ a small voice reminded her. Yes, she had feared for him too. It had been a physical knot in her stomach only slightly remedied by the adrenaline each shot she fired fueled her with.

Grimacing as she lifted one arm and then the other, Susan undid her tight, leather bodice and laid it on the vanity before slipping her dress over her head. Examining her cuts and bruises in the mirror, she determined they were nothing too serious and grabbed a robe from the bedchamber. She draped it over the back of the vanity chair and turned to the steaming tub behind a screen in the corner.

Susan pulled the screen back a bit and carefully stepped into the tub. She hissed as the hot water came in contact with a few especially painful cuts and gripped the edges of the metal tub as she sank all the way down. Placing an elbow on the edge, she rested her head against her fist, willing herself to relax.

"It's all over. There's nothing to worry about. Everybody's fine. We're all okay," she whispered reassurances to herself. Susan closed her eyes at a knock followed by the scratch of the door opening. "Who is it?" she called hoarsely.

"Caspian. I just wanted to be sure you were all right." The Telmarine's voice filtered over the screen and she sat bolt upright in surprise. "Where are you?"

"Ah… I'm in- the bath," she stuttered.

"…Oh."

"That's all right, though. There's a screen. I'd like the company," Susan offered. She heard him shuffle into the room and pull out the small, vanity chair to sit on.

"I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Yes, I'm fine. Why?" Susan picked at her nails as she talked, hoping her voice sounded confident and sure.

"You seemed a bit shaken after the battle."

Susan bit her lip, trying to think of the right words to say. "I'm just tired."

"Well, please, don't let me disturb you then." Caspian scrambled to his feet and made to leave.

"No, wait!" He stopped with one hand on the open door and glanced back over his shoulder at the screen. "Stay. Please," her voice cracked and Susan choked back tears.

Caspian slowly shut the door and came around the covered screen, chivalry and older brothers be damned. She looked up at him with wet eyes and chapped lips and something in him broke. He knelt at her side, taking her face in his hands and gently pressed his lips against hers. Susan moaned against him, bringing a hot, wet hand up to twist in his hair. Caspian pulled away just enough to drag kisses across her face.

"I haven't been that scared since the Witch tried to kill Ed," she confessed in a whisper.

"I've never been more scared than when I thought I'd lost you," he mumbled against her wet skin.

He stood to fumble his tunic off and she caught his hand, tugging him down into the water with her. The tub was barely big enough for the two of them and the now-tepid water splashed unceremoniously over the side but they hardly took notice. Their heat would keep them warm for a little while.


	10. Prompt 15: Key

The trio pulled up to the huge mansion in a black sedan

**Knock At the Door**

The trio pulled up to the huge mansion in a black sedan. The tires crunched on the gravel drive but no lights flickered on inside. Each breathed their own sigh of relief. Susan, Michael and Robert slid from the car, careful to make as little noise as possible. All were clad in head-to-toe black, from Michael's stylishly unnecessary bowtie to Susan's stunningly tight leggings.

"I feel bad about this, you guys," she hissed, pulling on her gloves.

Michael scoffed. "Oh, come off it, Su. The old man's dead. You haven't got any attachment to the stray cat that lives here now, have you?"

Susan sighed despite Robert's commanding 'hush.' The three slunk across the drive to the front door. From his pocket Robert retrieved a skeleton key and slid it noiselessly into the lock. The door swung open with hardly a tap.

The dark-haired Irishman smiled. "Works like a charm everytime." He winked at Susan but she only rolled her eyes and pushed past him into the house, grabbing the key from him as she went.

"Oh don't be a git. Let's just get this over with," she huffed. The two men raised their eyebrows at each other but followed her lead for once.

The three accomplished thieves made quick work of the parlor, den and downstairs bedroom. Flashlight beams made odd shadows on the walls. Susan was jumpier than either of them had ever seen her. At the sudden light of headlights on the road passing the house she even let out a small scream.

"Susan! Get a hold of yourself!" Robert scolded just above a whisper.

She grit her teeth. "I'm going upstairs. Don't leave me here," she glared. Susan took the stairs two at a time, running her hand over the smooth railing. Once she was alone, the memories assaulted her. Mrs. MacCready yelling at her there, Lucy and Ed sliding down that banister, Peter mock-dueling with the suit of armor down that hall.

She ticked off the rooms in her head as she passed them, her fingers touching each doorknob but never entering. Peter and Ed's room, the Professor's study, her and Lucy's room, the attic, the Renaissance room… the spare room. Susan stopped outside that door. There were other memories here, too. Countless nights spent crying herself to sleep and praying she would wake up in her faraway home. Bloody battles and doomed romances. Yes, there had been more than one. She had been quite the heartbreaker in her prime. _Both of them_.But only one such romance had stuck. Sure, there had been handsome princes and many good kissers, but only one had caught her heart as well as her lips.

_Caspian_. An almost audible voice, tinged with that sensuous accent she had always adored, called to her from inside the room. Beckoned her. She tried the doorknob but it was locked. Susan sighed and began to turn away but a thought struck her. She shoved her hand in her pocket and came up with Robert's prized skeleton key. With a small smile and his words, "Works like a charm everytime," echoing in her head, she shoved it in the hole. The door stayed locked. Susan let out a groan.

"Fitting. The damn key won't open the only door I've ever truly wanted into," she grumbled to herself. Without warning, the house was aglow with light. Susan's eyes widened in alarm and she darted to the railing, crouching low. Police cars were strewn across the driveway and officers swarmed the house. Robert and Michael ran out the back door; she heard it slam in their wake. They had gone and done the one thing she had asked them not to. They had left her there.

Susan's eyes darted to the locked door to her left and to the policemen searching the house for her. Throwing caution and common sense to the wind, she took a deep breath and stood. She ran headlong into that locked door and crashed to the floor, unconscious.

--

Susan Pevensie awoke in the hospital with a concussion and a fractured arm. It seemed that was one very sturdy door. Police questioned her as to the whereabouts of her two accomplices but she could only shrug and tell them she as much knew where they were as she knew that her brother, Peter, would be coming back from the dead to loudly inform her how disappointed he was. In truth, she wondered how improbable that actually was.

But for the first time in fifteen years, Susan wasn't scared. She wasn't scared of court. She wasn't scared of prison. She wasn't scared of herself and she certainly wasn't going to hide anymore. For a locked door that stayed locked and a key that was supposed to open anything, taught her something. It taught her that sometimes you can't hold the key in your hand. Sometimes you can't even find the key. But at the most inapropo and most unexpected time, the key just might find you.

At 8:16 on February 12, 1964, Susan Pevensie was playing solitaire in her hospital bed, listening to her almost deaf neighbor's wife loudly reading the bible aloud to him. In that same minute, she heard the woman say, "Matthew 7:7. Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."

Susan looked up from her cards, startled. "Knock and the door…" At 8:18, she put aside her game, got out of bed and walked to the bathroom door. With a wary eye at the others in the room, she gave two sharp knocks on the door. It swung open and all her pain seemed to float to somewhere far beneath her feet as she stepped inside. The door swung shut and she glanced down at herself. Young, beautiful and dressed as a queen again. Simple as that.

"Knock and the door will be opened to you," she murmured, purely delighted. She ran up the grassy green hill to look out over the sea far below.

"Take me in your heart and, yes, it is as simple as that, my child. I knew it would only take you time." Susan spun around and instantly threw her arms around Aslan's neck.

"A bathroom door? Really, Aslan?" she teased him. Aslan gave what she knew passed as a laugh for a lion.

"It was convenient. But we will talk later, Gentle. There are many who have waited a long time for you." Susan looked up to see her brothers and sister standing patiently to the side. As her eyes swept over them though, they rushed forward as one to hug and kiss her. One remained back, waiting until the small reunion had subsided just enough. In time he stepped forward too. The three siblings parted to let him through.

"Queen Susan." Caspian bowed gallantly to kiss her hand.

"You know, it was you that turned my heart around again," she murmured.

He shook his head. "No, it was you that did that. But I only pray you will invite me into such a precious place again."

"Knock and the door will be opened to you." Her voice was light and airy and held the teasing tone of a laugh. Caspian tugged her to him with one easy pull and pressed his lips to hers. The siblings all chuckled good-naturedly.

"Careful, Caspian. That's my sister you're knocking on." Ed clapped the king on the shoulder as he dragged his older and younger siblings away. Caspian straightened, Susan still in his arms, to blush.

Susan laughed at his expression, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Don't mind him. I may have strayed but I do remember a few of those Sunday school lessons: 'Greet one another with a holy kiss'." Susan smirked as Caspian happily obliged.

At 8:19, Susan Pevensie unexplainably collapsed, never again to wake. Despite her circumstances, she died with a smile on her face.


	11. Prompt 16: Autumn

Scenes in a Park

**Scenes in a Park**

Susan Pevensie sat on a bench in Hyde Park, her stylish black suit, veiled hat and gloves unobtrusive against the stunning backdrop of autumn in London. Looking up into the trees that splayed their half-naked branches against the overcast sky, she caught sight of a small leaf fighting valiantly against the wind that threatened to rip it from its home. She tilted her head and watched the orange fabric of nature's quilt as it was unceremoniously torn from the only place it had ever known. It fluttered to the ground in an erratic and unpatterned path, turning over and about as it went, before coming to rest on the already leaf-littered ground.

Life is like that. You never know when it's going to be stolen from you, your love and devotion not enough to save yourself or anyone else.

Her eyes turned to the doe-eyed couples meandering past her bench. Hands held and soft smiles meant only for one other. One pair sought refuge from the cold under a leafless tree and in the warmth of a kiss.

Two siblings skipped past, one boy and one girl. They rolled their eyes at the argument of their elder brother and sister trailing behind them.

"He's not good enough for you, Marilyn!"

"He's plenty good enough, _Roger!_ You just leave us alone!"

"Absolutely not."

"Are you _forbidding_ me from seeing him?"

The young man stammered a moment but stood firm in his opinion. "Yes. He's no good."

She scoffed angrily and crossed her arms. "I still don't see what exactly it is that you have against him. Before we went out, he was a good friend of yours."

"He was not! I've always thought him an arrogant prat."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Arrogant prat? I think I could turn that around on you just fine."

"Go right ahead. He's going to get you in trouble."

The conversation faded as the four traipsed away down the path and a small, sad smile bloomed on Susan's face. Picking up her clutch from beside her, she stood and made her way in the opposite direction the children had taken. She had a funeral to go to.


	12. Prompt 19: Red

**Blood on the Moon**

"Are you all right, Susan?" Michael's voice preceded him onto the balcony where the aforementioned stood, staring at the moon.

"There's blood on the moon," she answered quietly, her hands folded demurely behind her. He followed her gaze to the red ring that had her so captivated.

"So?"

"Bad luck." Michael's brow knit in disbelief; she turned to him abruptly, rubbing her hands together as if she were cold. "Would you mind getting me a cup of tea?"

He nodded. "Of course. I'll be right back." Susan watched his retreating form as he headed back inside to the party. She turned her eyes back to the moon, almost as though she couldn't help herself. She only looked away again when Michael returned with the steaming chamomile.

"Here you go. Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again as he carefully handed it over.

"Mhmm," Susan murmured, chucking the contents of the cup over the railing. Michael gasped, instinctively bringing one hand up too late to stop her.

"Wha- What are you doing?" he cried.

Susan didn't answer him but calmly examined the remaining tea leaves in the bottom of the porcelain cup. Her face went white as she studied them. As the cup slid from her stunned fingers, Michael lunged out to catch it before it shattered on the stone balcony. "What is wrong with you?" he demanded.

Susan pushed passed him in something of a flurry. She darted through the house to the nearest phone and, picking it up, frantically dialed. "Peter! Oh Peter, my god, are you all right? Just answer me! No! Peter, there's blood on the moon and I looked at the leaves and there was a crown and a man and death and you had better not go out, Peter! Or Ed! I don't want to lose either of you and-"

Michael listened interestedly as whoever was on the other end managed to interrupt her. She sank onto the couch by the phone, her face ashen. She didn't speak for far too long. Even from the doorway he heard the man say her name, "Susan? Susan, are you there?"

"Yes," she almost whispered, "Yes, I'm here. Thank you, Peter. Sorry to bother you. No, no, I'll be just fine. I'll see you when I get home." She hung up the phone and hung her head. Michael moved to sit beside her, the empty teacup still in his hand.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

Susan covered her face with her hands a moment, not answering. Finally, she said, "I just overreacted. Thought I saw something that wasn't there. Don't worry about it."

Michael looked doubtful so she grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the makeshift dance floor. But as she leaned her cheek on his chest, she wondered that a moon in one world could tell of tragic events in another.

"_Oh, Susan. It's not me or Ed. I didn't want to have to tell you this, Su, but Eustace just called. He-He and a friend have been to Narnia. They saw Caspian, Su. He was an old man; it was his time! He lived a long, full life – lots of adventure, just the way he liked it. Really, Su, we didn't expect it to have lasted this long." _

Susan never looked at tea leaves again and she never, ever watched the moon. She didn't want to know. Knowledge is power but with power comes responsibility and with responsibility, disappointment.


End file.
